"Of course.Please, sit."He gestured to a chair across from his desk, waiting until she was seated before settling back into his own chair.The gesture was courteous, gentlemanly.Everything about him was carefully calibrated."You mentioned this was about some of my patients.I should tell you upfront that doctor-patient confidentiality limits what I can share, but I'm happy to help in any way I can within those boundaries."
"I understand."Kari settled into the chair, watching Pemberton's face as she spoke.She'd interviewed enough suspects over the years to know that body language during the first few seconds of a conversation often revealed more than words could."I'm investigating the deaths of several young women connected to the modeling industry.Amanda Escalante.Jennifer Blake.Destiny Morales.I believe you treated all of them at some point."
Pemberton's expression grew appropriately somber."Yes, I knew those women.Tragic losses, all of them.This industry can be incredibly hard on young people.The pressure to maintain impossible standards, the constant rejection, the scrutiny of their bodies and faces.It takes a toll."
"Can you tell me about your relationships with them?"
"They were patients, Detective.I performed various procedures for them—minor things, mostly.Refinements.And I prescribed medications as needed to help them cope with the stress of their careers.Nothing unusual for women in their profession."
Kari tilted her head."You prescribed psychiatric medications?Anti-anxiety drugs, that sort of thing?"
"When appropriate, yes."
"I thought that kind of prescribing was usually handled by psychiatrists, or at least a GP.Not a plastic surgeon."
Reeves smiled thinly."I have a holistic approach to patient care.These young women come to me because they're unhappy with some aspect of their appearance, but that unhappiness is often connected to deeper anxieties.It would be irresponsible to address the physical without acknowledging the psychological."
"So you're treating their mental health as well as their appearance."
"I'm treating the whole patient."His tone had cooled."I'm not doing anything illegal, Detective, if that's what you're implying.Physicians are permitted to prescribe within their judgment."
"I'm not implying anything.Just trying to understand your practice."
He stared at her for several seconds.Then, as if realizing defensiveness would only make him look worse, he leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers, putting on an air of relaxed confidence."You have to understand, the modeling industry is brutal.These young women face constant pressure to look perfect.Many of them develop anxiety, insomnia, eating disorders.I try to help them manage those issues so they can continue their careers without destroying their health."
"What kind of medications did you prescribe?"
"That's getting into confidential territory, but I can speak generally.Anti-anxiety medications.Sleep aids.Sometimes, appetite suppressants, though I try to steer patients away from those, the side effects can be serious.I'm not in the business of enabling eating disorders, despite what some people might assume."
He smiled slightly, as if acknowledging an unfair criticism he'd weathered before."My goal is always my patients' well-being.Physical and mental."
"Some of the medications found at the scenes of these deaths were prescription drugs.The kind you might prescribe."
Pemberton's posture shifted, almost imperceptibly.He sat up straighter, and he unlaced his steepled fingers."Detective, I'm not sure what you're implying, but I don't appreciate it.I prescribe medications according to medical need and professional standards.What patients do with those prescriptions after they leave my office is beyond my control.I can't follow them home and watch them take their pills."
"I'm not implying anything.I'm gathering information."Kari kept her voice neutral, her expression blank.But she was watching him carefully now, noting the way his eyes had narrowed, the way his hands had moved to grip the arms of his chair.The relaxed confidence was still there, but something else had crept in underneath it.
Wariness, maybe.Or calculation.
"Can you tell me," she asked, "about your relationship with Elite Vision?I understand you have some kind of arrangement with them."
"I have referral arrangements with several agencies.They send me clients, I offer a preferred rate.It's mutually beneficial—standard practice in this industry."Pemberton's voice had cooled noticeably, the warmth draining out of it."Many of their models need cosmetic procedures to stay competitive.I provide those services at a discount, and in return, the agencies recommend me to their talent.Everyone benefits."
"How much of your business comes from these arrangements?"
"I fail to see how that's relevant to your investigation."
"I'm trying to understand the relationships between the people and organizations connected to these deaths.The financial relationships.The personal relationships."Kari paused, letting that land."You clearly have a significant financial stake in the modeling industry.That makes you connected to these women in ways that go beyond doctor and patient."
Pemberton stood abruptly and walked to the window, his back to Kari.The movement felt calculated, a way to buy time, to compose his face before she could read it.When he spoke again, his voice was tight with controlled irritation.
"Detective Blackhorse, I've been cooperative because I want to help.I care about these young women, whatever you might think.But I'm beginning to feel as if I'm being treated like a suspect rather than a resource.If you have specific questions related to a specific crime, I'm happy to answer them with my lawyer present.Otherwise, I think this conversation is over."
Kari stood as well.She'd pushed as far as she could without official standing.Any harder, and she'd be crossing lines that could compromise Carter's investigation."I appreciate your time, Dr.Pemberton.If you think of anything that might be helpful, please give me a call."She placed her card on his desk.
He didn't turn around."I'm sure you can find your way out."
In the elevator, Kari replayed the conversation in her mind.Pemberton had been smooth at first, charming and cooperative in the way of someone accustomed to managing his image.A man who spent his days convincing women to let him cut into their faces—of course he knew how to be persuasive.
